Tag Archives: JNU

The summer of my Mphil dissertation

Its been a little more than a couple of months that I have started writing my Mphil dissertation and there are a few things I would like to share about this experience. Since I am going to go through this beautiful distress of an Mphil only once in my lifetime, might as well keep some record of how this feels.

Mostly, It feels like shit. This life of discipline, where one needs to be working on the dissertation relentlessly, is not one I prefer. At the moment, I wake up every weekday at 6.30am to go for Yoga. Once I return and finish my daily chores, I head to the library to spend the entire day there till about 11pm. While some days are great, others suck. Sometimes I manage to write about 2000 words of this damned thing that no one will read. On other days, I write about 200 and read too much to make anything of it. Then there is the superfast wi-fi in the JNU library which entices people like yours truly to watch endless videos of stand up comics that make me existentially question my purpose on earth and music videos which I silent dance to in my seat in the library. Ofcourse, however the daygoes, its my own doing. Still, the routine of writing everyday about one topic, rather ranting for some 50000 words about something hat doesn’t really matter, makes me wonder what the point of this whole exercise is. Well, but like all things,  it has been begun and so it must be wrapped up well, packed and put away.

This makes one feel like tossed cabbage. – Chopped up , high strung, damp, emotional. Actually I have no idea why I said it feels like cabbage-just felt like the right image.

I have exactly 1 month to finish everything. July 15th. 30 days to go.

PS. While I am at this, I also am continuing with Gati work. unbelievable really, the stuff I get myself into.
Oh and did I mention this is the summer  of my mphil dissertation, which I am writing from Delhi, where its 45 degrees Celsius on a good day and 36 degrees at night.

 

 

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November, that time of the year

November, that time of the year.When soft curls of mist dim the pale yellow streetlights
on my walk back home,
On my walk back home from the library,
after I have laboured and languished over submissions
due in two weeks,

November, that time of the year,
when hunger calls every few hours,
and hot samosas answer it.
When cold hands find solace
in warm jumpers.

November, that time of the year,
when lovers can cuddle in one
large soft blanket of feathers
and whispers and tea in their breath.

November, that time of the year,
when the sun still shines and
kisses cheeks and knees and
the tips of noses.
Dew on green leaves,
Laughter and warmth,
love and longing.
For December.

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